


bucky barnes and the case of the cute jogger and his dumb gay ass

by challaudaku



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Drug Use, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Major Character Injury, but like medical drug use, dumb gay bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 01:55:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19758223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/challaudaku/pseuds/challaudaku
Summary: It's not Bucky's fault. It really, truly isn't.





	bucky barnes and the case of the cute jogger and his dumb gay ass

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warnings for major injury, medical drug use, implied sexual content, dumb gay bucky

It’s not Bucky’s fault. It really, truly isn’t. All he was doing was making backing out of his driveway to go to work, just like he does every morning. And if his eyes happened to drift to the right, where there was this  _ really _ hot jogger — well, he’s only human, after all. And if he was paying maybe a little  _ too _ much attention to the jogger and didn’t notice that a car was speeding down his street, that’s not on him at all. And if the car crashed into him, that’s  _ definitely  _ not his fault.

He barely has a second to register the pain shooting up his left arm before he blacks out.

…

When Bucky wakes up, it takes his brain a moment to catch up. He registers he’s in the hospital and there’s a needle in his right arm and a dull throbbing pain in his other arm. The hospital is white, all over, and it’s blinding, especially considering Bucky was passed out a second ago. He’s wearing some sort of horrible hospital gown that’s itching his legs, but he doesn’t want to move. He’s in pain.

He remembers getting hit with the other car, and that’s probably why he’s in the hospital.  _ Fine _ , he thinks, except it takes him another moment to remember  _ why _ he got hit in the first place, and he lets out an audible groan. 

The fucking jogger. He’s pathetic. Really, jogging should be kept to treadmills in the gym where innocent dumb gays like Bucky won’t get distracted by hot joggers like Bucky did. 

“Oh, you’re awake,” someone says, and Bucky shifts his body so that he can see the speaker. He didn’t even realize anyone else was in the room.

And then he sees  _ who _ spoke.

It’s the jogger guy. The same one that distracted Bucky and got him in this situation in the first place. Since he’s not dumbly watching him through his windshield, Bucky has a much better view now. It makes his heart speed up. The guy’s eyes are brown, but they’re soft, and kind, and Bucky wants to keep looking at them forever. 

That’s not exactly true, though, because he likes checking this guy out. 

There’s the hint of a smile on the guy’s face, tentative possibly because Bucky’s in a hospital bed because of him. Although the guy doesn’t know that it’s his fault. Bucky hopes. That’d be a little awkward for him.

The guy’s dark skin is still glistening with some sweat from his jog and Bucky can see his cheekbones. He wants to press his fingers to them.

He’s still wearing a gray sweater with the sleeves pushed up to show strong forearms and Bucky wants to hold his hand. Up close Bucky can see his legs better and they look  _ really  _ muscular, at least the part of his legs Bucky can see. He’s wearing long shorts, unfortunately. Still, Bucky wants to touch them. Bucky wants to touch  _ him _ .

Bucky, unfortunately, can’t move.

“Gah,” he says, or something equally eloquent. It’s not like he was good at English when he was in school. When confronted with a hot guy, his vocabulary completely goes out of the window. 

He makes a move to sit up, despite the left side of his body protesting every time he slightly moves. His vision goes white.

“You probably shouldn’t move,” Bucky hears, and for a second he’s masked by pain and he deliriously thinks that the left side of his body is  _ talking _ to him. He then quickly realizes that it’s the jogger guy. That makes more sense. He blinks, and his vision clears, and he looks back at the jogger guy, who’s standing now. 

“I’m Sam, by the way,” Sam says. He puts out a hand, and then awkwardly stuffs it in his pocket.

“Bucky,” Bucky says, his voice cracking. Smooth. “I’m Bu— yeah,” Bucky has no idea what to say and an awkward silence settles between them.

“I called the ambulance for you,” Sam explains, “and then I rode in it and then the hospital assumed I was, like,  _ with _ you, and so, yeah,” he ends lamely. Bucky digests that the hospital thinks that Sam is  _ with  _ him. He also digests the fact that Sam didn’t correct them. After a beat he brings his hand back out, this time holding a piece of paper. “This is for you. The guy who hit you told me to give it to you, his information. He said you can press charges, or send him your hospital bill, or whatever.” Sam places the slip of paper on the table next to Bucky’s bed.

“Thanks,” Bucky croaks out to Sam. Sam gives him a little wave, and Bucky figures he’s going to leave, but he sits back down on the bedside chair.

Bucky wonders if Sam has somewhere he needs to be, but he pushes that thought out of his mind. He’s grateful for the company.

Especially from a cute jogger.

…

Later, a doctor comes in and tells him the full extent of the damage. He tunes out most of it, because it’s  _ boring _ . He gets the jist, though — his left arm is fucked up. It would make sense, because once the doctor injects some morphine into his veins and his body stops throbbing and he can move for the most part, Bucky looks over at his arm to see the injury rather than just feeling it. Feeling it isn’t really effective, as he can’t feel  _ anything _ in his left arm. It’s wrapped up, but a nurse comes in and unwraps it to replace the bandage, and Bucky’s arm is gnarled and cut and Bucky stops looking after he sees it.

The doctor tells him it’s radial nerve palsy, and he might get feeling back in his arm, but he also might not. Fun. He’s prescribed with medications and physical therapy and Sam is in the room while all of this is discussed.

When the doctor leaves and Bucky is left to wallow in his sadness, Sam is still there.

“So,” Sam says, and Bucky can see him scuff the toes of his shoes together. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Bucky says, even though it’s a lie. He wants to feel resentful towards Sam, because his arm might be permanently fucked up, but he also can’t bring himself to do it. Sam called an ambulance for him  _ and _ stuck around afterwards.

Bucky might not know him that well, but he’s grateful.

Sam makes a humming noise in his throat and then gets up, brushing invisible lint from his shorts.

“I should probably go,” he says, keeping his eyes on Bucky but pointing a thumb towards the door.

Bucky nods, because he knew this moment was going to come, but also he realizes that he doesn’t even know Sam’s last name. This might be his last chance to talk to him.

“Hey,” he calls out, at Sam’s halfway to the door. Sam turns back, and Bucky tries to do an awkward nod that doesn’t really work because he’s laying down. Trying to ignore his own dumb gay ass (what he’s been trying to do the entire morning), Bucky says, “After I get out of here, can I take you to coffee? As a thanks, you know?” Bucky curses himself for added “as a thanks”, because did he just no homo the guy he wants to homo?

Nevertheless, Sam accepts the invitation and gives Bucky his number before shooting him a smile and leaving.

…

Bucky’s forced to stay in the hospital for two days after that, just to do more checks and to start his physical therapy. On the second day, he’s mostly feeling all better — minus the fact that he can’t feel anything in his left arm.

He goes to physical therapy. He gets his medical bill sorted out with the guy who hit him.

He texts Sam.

_ Sam. _ he types at first, sending it. Immediately, he figures that it sounds a little bit ominous.  _ Hi :) _ , he adds, and a third:  _ It’s Bucky! _

**Hey** , Sam replies, almost immediately and it makes Bucky smile at his phone (a stupid smile, probably, but no one’s looking).

_ What’s up? _ Bucky asks, not sure what else to say. He wants to talk to Sam  _ so bad _ but he also has no idea how.

**I don’t know. You were the one who texted me** , Sam shoots back. 

_ Fair.  _

_ But that’s only because I wanted to know how *you* were doing _ , Bucky types, his fingers flying over his phone screen in a haste to answer.

**Oh really? Well, I’m doing well. I just got done with work.**

_ What do you do? I feel like ten in the morning is a weird time for ending work _ .

**I’m a therapist for veterans, so I work on an appointment-based schedule. I’m not technically *done* with work, but I’m done with my appointments for today. So I’m free.**

**Are you out of the hospital?**

_ No. :(  _

_ I get out at three though. _

_ If you’re free then. _

_ And you wanna do something. _

_ I don’t care. _

_ I’m free. _

_ If you wanna do something. _

Bucky can’t believe he’s actually asking someone out on a date. Sort of, at least.

**Well, how about that coffee date you promised me?**

_ A date? _

_ Like a Date or like a date? _ Bucky asks, and then realizes that maybe it sounds like he’s  _ against _ a Date, which is not true at all. Sam is cute. Sam got him into a car crash. Sam stayed in the hospital with him far longer than he needed to.

_ Because I’m fine either way!  _ He adds quickly.

_ I’m gay _

_ Hahahhaa _

_ Yeah _

Yeah, Bucky’s pretty sure he’s not going to get a Date.

**Which do you want it to be?** Bucky starts to type, figuring that he’ll save them both the embarrassment if he’s rejected, but the three dots pop back up and Sam’s message comes back in.

**Because I’m down with a Date.**

Whooping aloud (he’s glad he doesn’t have a roommate like he always sees in movie hospitals), Bucky replies,  _ Then hell yes!! _

_ A Date. _

_ Love that for us _ .

_ But one question _ , he adds, not ready for the conversation to die.  _ Did I ask *you* out, or the other way around. Because I said the coffee in the beginning. You just brought it up this time. _

_ It’s important for when we tell our relationship story, _ he elaborates.

**Our relationship story, huh? :)**

**I’m going to take this one, sorry! I’m the one who made it into a Date.**

_ Fine.  _

_ Don’t tell my mom.  _

_ She already says I need to speak out more. _

**Deal (:**

Clicking his phone off, Bucky holds it to his chest with a smile. Only five more hours.

…

The next five hours pass in a blur of physical therapy, rest, and texting Sam. When three o’clock arrives, Bucky signs himself out of the hospital (he can, thankfully, still move and write with his arm), and he goes to meet up with Sam.

Since his car got, well, ran into, Bucky takes a cab. On the ride over to the coffee shop they agreed on, Bucky thinks about his conversations with Sam. Over the course of their five hours of talking, Bucky learns that Sam has two siblings, Sarah and Gideon, and Gideon is the same age as Bucky’s little sister Rebecca. He learns that Sam is (supposedly) amazing at frisbee, and Bucky’s inclined to believe him, based solely on his legs. Sam teases Bucky for having no real athletic talents, but Bucky gets him to shut up by saying that he can bench press 280 pounds.

Organized sports aren’t even that good. 

Bucky talks about his job at the Center for Jewish History, because his mother wanted him to remain a Nice Jewish Boy despite his issues with religion. His job gets him talking about how he’s a history major, which gets them into a conversation about history in general, which gets Bucky ranting about people crediting Hamilton for being an abolitionist, which then ends with Sam saying that all he knows about Hamilton is from the musical. It effectively shuts Bucky up.

Instead, they talk about religion, and how Sam’s Christian, but the type of Christian that’s assimilated and only celebrates Christmas and Easter and  _ maybe _ goes to mass during those holidays.

They talk about TV shows, and Bucky realizes that he’s way more of a movie person than a TV person. He figures Sam can get him into TV, though, because from the sounds of it, Sam has multiple favorite shows.

All in all, Bucky’s buzzing by the time the cab reaches the coffee shop. He pays the driver quickly, anxious to get into the shop, and he checks his phone, realizing he’s early. They agreed on four o’clock, but there’s still 15 minutes until then. Reminding himself to breathe, Bucky heads into the coffee shop. He looks around and, his heart starting to pick up speed again, realizes that Sam is also early, sitting at a little table tucked into a private little corner. Instead of going to the counter to order, he heads over to Sam.

“Hi,” he says, giving Sam a small smile.

“Hey,” Sam says, shooting him one back. “I didn’t know how you like your coffee so I got you hot chocolate,” he tells Bucky, and Bucky notices the two cups in front of him.

With a grin, Bucky takes the seat across from Sam. “Hot chocolate is perfect.”

… 

Sam is even more charming in person, Bucky decides. They spend two hours talking about everything and anything, before Sam realizes the time.

“I should probably get going,” he says, frowning up at Bucky.

Bucky lets out a sigh but agrees.

“You want to have a second date sometime?” Sam asks as Bucky gathers up his trash. “But this time without a hospital visit?”

“I want that,” Bucky says softly. “A second date, that is. Not another hospital visit.”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees, giving Bucky a light laugh. “I’d like that too.”

…

Weeks later, Bucky’s arm doesn’t get better. His nerves are still damaged, and it’s frustrating, the constant numbness. 

Weeks later, though, Bucky has  _ a boyfriend _ . Specifically, he has Sam as his boyfriend.

Currently, Sam is in his bed, mostly naked, and pressing soft kisses onto his left arm. Bucky doesn’t know if they’re actually soft, but he can  _ just _ feel the pressure on his arm and it makes him whine in the back of his throat.

“It’s your fault, you know,” he says without thinking, panting and sweaty.

“Hm?” Sam says, his mouth pressed against Bucky’s arm.

“That my arm got messed up,” Bucky elaborates, gesturing to his arm with a little chuckle.

Sam moves, sitting up next to Bucky, and looking him in the eyes with a concerned look. Bucky doesn’t want him to stop. He makes a little distressed noise and leans forward to put his lips to Sam’s. Sam allows the kiss for a couple of moments, but before Bucky can deepen it, he softly pushes Bucky back.

“What were you saying about your arm?” he asks, frowning.

Well, if Bucky knew that they were going to stop to have this conversation, he wouldn’t have brought it up. It’s not a big deal to him, really.

“It’s just —” Bucky says with a sigh, silently cursing himself for killing the mood. “The day it happened I wasn’t paying attention to another car on the road because I —” Bucky breaks off, feeling a certain amount of embarrassment, even though Sam knows he’s infatuated with him and also that Bucky’s a disaster.

“What?” Sam asks, the cute concerned look still painting his face.

“I was staring at a cute jogger,” Bucky finishes, giving Sam a pointed look.

“Oh,” Sam says. “ _ Oh _ ,” he repeats, his face filling with understanding. He looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Yeah,” Bucky says, trying to ignore the way his boyfriend’s eyes fill with mirth at Bucky’s expense.

“You’re an idiot,” Sam says, leaning forward to kiss Bucky’s mouth. Bucky kisses back.

“I know, I know,” he says, cupping Sam’s cheek. “But I’m your idiot now.” Bucky can almost feel Sam roll his eyes.

“That was dumb. And reckless,” Sam says, softly breathing against Bucky. “If you do something like that again I’m going to kill you.”

Bucky nods, smiling against Sam’s mouth as Sam moves to straddle him.

“It’s okay,” Bucky says after a moment. “I only have one cute jogger I would stare at.” 

Sam sighs, exasperated, into Bucky’s mouth, and says, “I hate you.” Their tongues beat together for a moment before he adds, “I love you.”

“Yeah,” he whispers, kissing Sam deeply again. “I love you, too.”


End file.
